In The Rain
by AnotherDreamer
Summary: ONE-SHOT Hermione and Draco encounter one another one stormy night. (Disclaimer: All characters featured belong to the author, J.K. Rowling.)


Hermione Granger exited Hogwarts at around 8:00. The sky was beginning to darken, but she could still make out ominous rain clouds, gray and foreboding. With any luck, it would rain. But one could never be too hopeful. This girl of almost eighteen years had learned that a long time ago; if you were never too hopeful, you could not be so easily disappointed.

Hermione pulled her cloak closer about her shoulders. The chill November air seemed to blow right through her skin and chill her at her very core. But perhaps the chill was coming from within. Life just wasn't at all what it used to be. With the wizarding world on the brink of war, many people began to question their lives and the importance of it all. Sometimes, it was just too much. Sometimes, people, such as Hermione, just needed a break. So here she was, outside in the darkness, trying to sort out herself and her thoughts. She had discovered that if she were alone, it was much easier.

She found herself at the edge of the lake, the breeze creating tiny waves like a miniature sea across the surface of the usually glassy water. She peered over the edge, her image distorted and confused, quite like her thoughts and her reality. She sat down slowly at the water's edge and began to sob for reasons unknown to her. Hermione soon realized that the wetness on her cheeks was not only the tears. It had begun to rain. She stood up, happy for a moment, and began to twirl around, wet hair flying, face upward and mouth open. She allowed herself to forget everything, including herself, and danced in the rain. She let it go.

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Draco decided to take a stroll that night. He wasn't quite sure why, seeing as it looked likely to rain, but he wanted to collect himself and his thoughts. As he walked out into the cold, he felt the very first drops of what was sure to be a storm. The way the breeze ruffled his hair and the chill in the atmosphere was evidence to that. But still, for some reason, fate pulled him out of the castle and into the cold.

Draco tucked his green and silver scarf into his cloak and set off in no particular direction. The rain began to pick up, and he could feel the droplets creating rivers down his cheeks, like the tears he had given up crying. It felt strange to have water running down his cheeks again. It had been so long since he had cried…

_His body ached. It ached horribly. The pain was like nothing he had ever experienced. It was searing through him and ripping him apart at his seams. It must be tearing through his heart, leaving only ruins in its wake. When would the pain stop, the small boy wondered. How much longer? Suddenly, he heard a scream and briefly wondered where it had come from. The pain the pain the pain the pain…_

_And then it was over. Over. Done. But oh, did his cheek hurt. This pain was on the outside. His cheek stung. It took him a moment to realize that Lucius had slapped him. "Draco, you poor excuse for a son. Grow up, boy. Men do not scream. No son of mine will scream. You will not scream anymore." And with that last command, he threw the Unforgivable curse at his son again, and the white light seared through him, hearting killing tearing torturing…_

_When this time the pain subsided, the small boy called Draco realized that his cheeks were wet. He reached up to his cheek to find them damp with many tears. He caught one on his finger tip, staring at the way it captured the light and his pain, turning it all to rainbows…_

_His father laughed, a deep rumble low in his throat, uncaring and indifferent. "Crying now, are we?"_

_Draco reached up and touched his wet cheeks again. An emotion flowed through him now, and it was hatred for this man and the weakness he imposed on him. Never again would this boy cry. Never never again…_

Draco came back to the present and the rain running down his face and pounding on his head. He wiped at the wetness on his face absentmindedly and continued on his course to nowhere. Then he saw her. She was…what was she doing, he wondered. She was spinning herself, dancing in the rain. Draco watched her in awe. He had never seen someone do something like this before. It was really quite odd. She was soaked. But he could not bring himself to look away. Her freedom and detachment from the world was entrancing. He watched and watched and then he realized who she was. This was Hermione Granger. Hermione Granger. The image of perfection. She was dancing in the rain. After hours. She was breaking rules. He allowed himself to chuckle at this latter thought. She was breaking rules.

Before he knew it, Draco was approaching her, slowly but surely, keeping his eyes on her the whole time. She reminded Draco of a ballerina music box his mother had. When she opened the lid, music would spill out and the little porcelain dancer would spin around gracefully. The sweet melody used to put Draco to sleep when he was young.

He had reached her. Her eyes were closed, but he knew she had heard him approach. She stopped spinning and turned slowly to face him. "What are you doing here, Malfoy?" she inquired.

"I believe I could ask you the same thing," he replied harshly.

"You could, I suppose," she said dejectedly. This, for some reason, angered Draco. She was supposed to argue with him! What on earth was the world coming to?

"What's your problem Granger?" he said. "Why are you standing out here in the rain?" Curiosity had gotten the better of him. She started to answer, but Draco wasn't listening. He was looking at her, as though for the first time. The droplets of water ran over her smooth ivory skin, her cheeks mildly flushed from the cold. Her lips were pale from the chill, taking on somewhat of a blue hue. Her eyes were troubled, full of a sadness that he could not even begin to understand. She looked lost, and yet, her eyes did not elude to wanting to be found. But Draco wanted to find her.

Not knowing what processed him to do it, he reached out his hand and touched his fingertips to her cheek. It was just as soft as he had imagined.

"Malfoy, what are you—" Hermione tried to say, but was interrupted.

"Shh, Granger. You never did know when to keep your mouth shut." He pressed his palm to her cheek and ran his thumb over her lip, trying to memorize her. He knew that good things never lasted.

Hermione realized that she needed him here in this moment, be he her enemy or not. He was here, while Harry and Ron were not. She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, wanting desperately to hold onto something.

Draco was a bit surprised at first by this lastest development, but he wrapped one of his arms around her waist, the other behind her head, his hand pressing her close. He may have been cruel in times past, but he was not nearly heartless. He just held her there in the rain, the water running over both of them and blending bending them into one. Not enemies, just two people, Draco and Hermione.

Draco pulled back for a moment to stare into her troubled eyes. They were so light of a brown they were almost honey colored. And they were so deep…

Hermione stared into unfamiliar eyes of stormy gray, like the ocean before a storm. She tried to reach through, to find the bottom, but she found herself getting lost in the sea of his soul, _drowning drowning drowning_…

And then he was kissing her, there in the rain and the cold and the dark, not because he loved her, but because he needed her. He needed her desperately, and she him. The kiss was not long, but fulfilling, and once it was over, he held her again, gently but securely, letting her know she was safe. They stood together, to souls in the darkness, on the edge of destiny, hearts beating together, and knew that from now on, things would be very much the same, and yet so very different.


End file.
